The Eye of the Storm
by MandyT
Summary: The story of Pedro and Gonzales and their search for Daccat's Treasure. Contains some shounen-ai.


A/N: Arrr, mateys, this be ye old pirate fic.  
  
Yes, this is my little story of Pedro and Gonzales, their search for Daccat's Treasure, and how they managed to get separated and Gonzales marooned on an abandoned isle (later to be found by Vyse). This is MY version of Pedro and Gonzales, and their personalities and such.  
  
This fic will contain some shounen-ai, just thought that you might wanna know.  
  
So, without further ado...  
  
* * *  
  
Ch. 1: The King of Loopers  
  
A crisp cold wind blew across the endless skies, bringing news of a storm yet to come, but still far off. On the deck of the Skywhale, an average sized wooden ship, Pedro, scrubbing the deck at the moment, ignored it.  
  
The sailor's brown eyes were concentrated on the task at hand. He sloshed his mop across the wooden deck, which was weathered from many a voyage but still in good condition. Pausing, Pedro leaded against his mop, shading his eyes from the sun, as he looked up towards the crow's nest.  
  
"Oi! Gonzales!! How's everything going up there? See anything?" Pedro shouted out to his friend. Gonzales, perched atop the railing of the crow's nest and hanging on to a rope to steady himself, looked down.  
  
"Nothin' but endless sky, Pedro," said Gonzales, "There's a hint of storm though."  
  
"Eh, probably a ways away. We'll more 'n likely miss it," called Pedro.  
  
"Aye," said Gonzales.  
  
Pedro looked up at his friend, shaking his head. Everyday he worried that Gonzales would fall to his death with that stupid way he like to perch on the crow's nest, but everyday he returned safely back down. Gonzales had amazing balance.  
  
Sighing with the hint of uneasiness he always had for his friend when he was up there, Pedro returned to his work. Pedro's captain was very particular about his decks. He like them nice and clean, and there were half rations to any sailor who didn't do their job properly.  
  
Pedro glanced up at Gonzales again, but he was still balanced in his same position.  
  
Gonzales was slightly younger than Pedro, but about the same height. He had wispy, sandy-colored hair that blew gently almost all the time, even if there was no wind. Now it whipped about his face as he stared straight into the wind. Gonzales was most definitely on the skinny side, but his frail figure stood strongly and firmly atop the crow's nest.  
  
Pedro, on the other hand, was a bit more buff, arms strong and hands calloused from years of sailor's work. His hair was more course than Gonzales's, and reddish-brown in color. Pedro considered himself the brains of the duo, though that didn't mean that Gonzales was stupid or anything. The other man in fact had a good head on his shoulders, as Pedro liked to say, but Pedro had a bit more common sense out of the two. While he was the more sensible one, Gonzales was more whimsical, imaginative, and constantly thinking about strange and unusual subjects. While his attention span tended to be rather short at times, on the other hand he could also concentrate for hours on single subject. Gonzales was very observant, and had the eye of an eagle, making him an exceptionally good lookout. He would perch in his roost nearly all day, until somebody, usually Pedro, told him to come down because his watch was over. Even though Pedro had known Gonzales all his life, the other man still puzzled him sometimes with his strange behaviors.  
  
Pedro and Gonzales had been friends since before Pedro could remember. They had both grown up together in Lower Valua. It was a horrible and depressing life, though Pedro found that things were a lot better with Gonzales. When they were together they could actually smile and sometimes even laugh a little bit. They had always known that the other would be at their side. People had said that their carefree spirit would disappear once they got a little bit older and realized the bleak life ahead of them, but Pedro and Gonzales constantly tried to have a positive outlook on things.  
  
Finally, when Pedro was 17 and Gonzales was 16, they left Lower Valua forever. They managed to join the Valuan army, lying about their age (one had to be at least 18 to enter the Valuan army) so that they could get accepted. Both were very skilled fighters, Pedro strong and powerful and Gonzales agile and quick. They made the perfect team, and were quite good soldiers too. Life began to shape up, as they were bringing in a steady paycheck and were living in the soldier barracks of Upper Valua.  
  
However, their lives were turned around one day when pirates attacked the ship they were sailing on. Pedro and Gonzales managed to steal a lifeboat, and fly off to the nearest port, Sailors' Island. They never saw nor heard from the rest of the crew again.  
  
Stranded on Sailors' Island with nothing but their Valuan Soldier uniforms, which made them very unwanted, Pedro and Gonzales started their life together as sailors. After a few odd jobs here and there, they had become official crewmembers of the Skywhale, a pirate ship. In Pedro and Gonzales's day, there wasn't any of the 'Blue Rogues' and 'Black Pirates.' All were referred to as pirates. There was a band of Air Pirates who tried to separate themselves from the rest of the pirates, saying that they only stole from certain ships, but most of the pirate community viewed them as just a stupid group of pirates 'trying to turn righteous.' The "Blue Pirates," as they had dubbed themselves, called the rest of the pirates 'black scum,' but nobody really paid much attention to this.  
  
"A pirate's a pirate, when ye get down to it," Pedro's captain, Captain Collins, had told him once. And Pedro personally agreed with him. It just made things to confusing. If you were going to choose the life as a pirate (even though some had no choice) you might as well face that fact they you wouldn't have the most honest, goody-two-shoes life. After all, pirates sailed the skies looking for treasure and plundering from unsuspecting ships. And Pedro wouldn't have it any other way. He loved sailing. He loved his life of piracy. He loved the skies. And Gonzales seemed to like it even more.  
  
Pedro glanced down at his work. He was nearly finished.  
  
"How's it goin', mate?" Pedro called up to Gonzales.  
  
"Quite well," called Gonzales, "There's a couple of loopers off yonder... look's like they're havin' a right good time..."  
  
"It's looper mating season," Pedro commented.  
  
"Aye," said Gonzales, "There's a whole bunch of 'em... all paired off, doin' some kinda funny dance." There was a pause, and Pedro stopped his work to stare out into the sky. Sure enough, there were little dots of varying colors on the horizon, dancing about the sky.  
  
"I likes loopers," said Gonzales, "Ye ever heard the story 'bout the Looper King, Pedro?"  
  
Pedro shook his head. Gonzales always liked a good story. While most of the crew stopped in the bar for a hearty drink of loqua, Gonzales always went for the sailors' stories.  
  
"Some says," called Gonzales, "That somewhere, there's a giant Looper King. Bigger 'n all the other loopers. Huge. They say that he eats small ships fer dinner, and any other ship that tries to attack 'im he either destroys and eats it too, or he runs away. They say the Looper Kind is faster 'n all the other loopers, despite 'is size."  
  
Pedro chuckled to himself.  
  
"Interestin' story there, Gon," he said.  
  
"Aye," said Gonzales. A strong, cool wind blew past, and Pedro gritted his teeth slightly and glanced up at Gonzales, but the other man stood firmly on the railing as if nothing had happened.  
  
"Gon, get down from there, I thinks the storm is comin'," called Pedro. Gonzales either didn't hear him, or he ignored him.  
  
"Ya think we could ever find the Looper King, Pedro?" asked Gonzales. The wind picked up, and Pedro eyed Gonzales uneasily.  
  
"Maybe mate, maybe..." said Pedro. He decided it was best to bring his mop and bucket inside before the storm hit, and then headed back to the deck.  
  
"GET DOWN FROM THERE!!" Pedro bellowed up to Gonzales as a particularly heavy wind hit the boat, swinging it slightly to the right.  
  
Whatever Gonzales yelled down to Pedro as a reply was lost in the howling of the wind.  
  
They had, almost suddenly, entered under a dark storm cloud, and it began to drizzle slightly. The wind whipped the moisture across Pedro's face as he desperately tried to look up at Gonzales's figure in the crow's nest.  
  
"Why won't he get down?" Pedro asked himself out loud, "He'll fall to ta 'is death surely in this storm!!" But Gonzales seemed to be remaining stubbornly in his perch.  
  
"ALL HANDS ON DECK!!" Pedro heard the first mate bellow from somewhere behind him, and the rest of the crew appeared at Pedro's side.  
  
"Whatcha lookin' at?" asked one.  
  
"Gonzales!" cried Pedro, "He's still up in the crow's nest! And he won't get down!!" The first mate, who had also appeared next to Pedro, shook his head.  
  
"Crazy blighter," he muttered, and then yelled, "Oi!! Gonzales, m'lad, git down from there!!" The rest of the crew shouted too, but to no avail. Finally the first mate shook his head.  
  
"'E's not listenin'. Either we'll watch our mate Gonzales fall to his death in the Deep Sky or get drowned by the storm," he said, "But, we must battle this gale now!"  
  
"Aye aye!" shouted the crew in unison. Pedro bit his lip. He knew that none of them would survive if they didn't work hard to get their ship on course, but he was still very worried about Gonzales. He knew he wouldn't be able to hear his friend's screams of terror if he indeed did fall to his death.  
  
And so the Skywhale and her crew battled again the storm, and the ship rocked on recklessly through the skies. Every once and awhile, Pedro would glance back up at the crow's nest, but it was nearly impossible to see in the dark storm. Sometimes, when lightning would illuminate the sky, Pedro thought he saw a glimpse of the silhouette of a skinny man on the crow's nest, standing defiantly against the storm, but then again, it could only be his imagination.  
  
"Damn blighter... 'e's stupider than a looper sometimes," Pedro muttered to himself.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like ages of being battered by the wind and rain, the storm began to calm. The skies cleared up as the left the heavy wind and rains of the storm behind them. Pedro leaned against the railing of the ship, gasping slightly.  
  
His initial reaction, of course, was to look up at the crow's nest. His eyes widened in relief. There was still a lone figure perched up there, looking like a statue, for he hadn't moved, and just a looked a little more wet and weathered. Gonzales was still there.  
  
All around him, sailors were cleaning up from the storm, but Pedro rain straight up to the foot of the mast and called up to Gonzales.  
  
"MATE, GIT DOWN FROM THERE!!" he roared. Gonzales stirred. He looked down at Pedro, grinned, and scurried down the mast.  
  
"'Ello there, Pedro, quite a storm we had, eh?" said Gonzales.  
  
Pedro gritted his teeth in rage.  
  
"WHY... DIDN'T... YE... GET... DOWN... WHEN... I... TOLD... YE!!!" he shouted. Gonzales recoiled slightly, the grin whipped off his face.  
  
"Somethin' could've happened to ye!! Ye could've fallen into Deep Sky!! What the hell were ye doin' up there anyways?" he continued to yell. Pedro's expression was one of great concern mingled with great anger.  
  
"Sorry, Pedro..." the other pirate looked down at his feet, and fumbled with his hands. He glanced up at Pedro, a very apologetic look on his face. Pedro's expression softened. He could never stay mad at Gonzales for long.  
  
"Eh... 'sokay mate..." he muttered, "Ye look like a drowned chicken though..." Gonzales broke into a smile again.  
  
"Aye, but so do you mate, so do you!" said Gonzales.  
  
"Guess we all look like a ragged bunch o' scallywags, eh?" said Pedro. He clasped Gonzales on the shoulder.  
  
"C'mon, mate..."  
  
Soon, the Skywhale was back on course and sailing into clear skies.  
  
"Ye never did tell me why ye insisted on stayin' up there, mate," said Pedro to Gonzales as they worked. The storm had blown a lot of debris onto the ship, and they were sweeping it off into Deep Sky.  
  
"Why do ye like it up in that crow's nest so much, anyways?"  
  
"Dunno," said Gonzales, looking thoughtful, "It' just nice up there, I s'pose... pretty-like, ye know? With the wind on yer face, an' ye can see fer miles an' miles... just you an' the endless sky... 'tis a beautiful thing Pedro."  
  
"Aye," said Pedro, "But it ain't so beautiful in a storm..."  
  
"It's excitin' up there, Pedro," said Gonzales, "The storm all around ye, the lightnin' the wind, the rain... I like te admire the beauty o' a storm. They 'tis beautiful too, Pedro, aye, that they are."  
  
"Whatever..." said Pedro, "But why can't ye admire it from someplace a little more safe... like the deck?"  
  
"Ye can't see it from down on the deck..." muttered Gonzales, more to himself than to Pedro.  
  
"See what?" asked Pedro, "Tell me, Gon, what did ye want to see?"  
  
"'s nothing..." muttered Gonzales. Pedro cocked his head. This wasn't like Gonzales at all. Knowing him, this probably had something to do with some stupid story Gonzales had heard, and Gonzales was always willing and excited to tell Pedro a story.  
  
"C'mon, Gon, what is it? Ye can tell me..."  
  
"The eye..." Gonzales muttered.  
  
Pedro blinked.  
  
"Eye?" he asked, thoroughly confused, "But Gon, storms ain't got no eyes. They ain't livin', like you an' me. They can't have no eyes."  
  
"Not eyes like people have," said Gonzales, "It's just what they call it."  
  
"Call what?"  
  
"The eye of the storm!" said Gonzales. Pedro shook his head.  
  
"Yer making no sense mate," he said.  
  
"Then never mind," said Gonzales.  
  
"No mate!! I wanna know about this eye 'o the storm thing!" said Pedro. This was the first time that Pedro could ever remember that he was actually begging Gonzales to tell him one of his stories.  
  
"Awright, fine," said Gonzales, and then began in a slightly hushed voice, "Some sailors say that in the very middle o' a big storm, with howlin' winds 'n everythin', it's completely calm. No winds, or anythin' but the winds and rain is still goin' on all around ye."  
  
Pedro was silent for a little while after Gonzales finished, and then shook his head again.  
  
"That's looper dung, mate," said Pedro, "There can't be no place ina storm that ain't got no big winds! Ye don't really believe that, do ye?"  
  
Gonzales remained silent.  
  
"Well, do ye?" asked Pedro, and when Gonzales still didn't say anything, Pedro shook his mangy head for the third time, "Ye can't believe everythin' ye hear, mate."  
  
"But Pedro," insisted Gonzales, "The way I figures it, a storm could be shaped circular-like," he waved his finger around in a spiral-like way, "I mean, a bunch o' big winds an' rain just can't appear out o' nowhere! So theres gots to be some center-place, where all the winds circle around. An' maybe there could be some calm spot there, even if it's really small, where the winds don't touch if they're movin' circle-like.  
  
Pedro eyed his friend for a moment. Part of what he was saying did kind of make sense. Pedro had never really thought about the way a storm would be shaped.  
  
"But a center of no winds? Still makes no sense to me, Gon," he said. Gonzales went to say something, but they were interrupted.  
  
"Supper's on, lads!" shouted the first mate, and all left their work to head inside. And because of Gonzales's usually low attention span, the eye of the storm topic was immediately dropped.  
  
"C'mon, Pedro, food!" he shouted, and Pedro smiled and followed his friend inside.  
  
Food on the Skywhale was relatively good, at least good enough for Pedro and Gonzales. When they stopped at ports they would often head down to the pub to get some good food, but on board the stuff the cook whipped up was good enough.  
  
Gonzales ate furiously, scooping in large mouthfuls at a time.  
  
"Slow down there, mate, ye'll give yerself a stomach ache!" said Pedro, but Gonzales ignored him.  
  
"I'm 'ungry!" he said between mouthfuls.  
  
Pedro chattered with the rest of his crewmates about the storm and other things that had happened that day, but Gonzales remained unusually silent, staring downwards. Pedro, realizing this, looked over at the other man.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked.  
  
"Nothin'" said Gonzales.  
  
"Yer quiet tonight," said Pedro.  
  
"So?" asked Gonzales. Pedro sighed. Why was Gonzales acting so weird all of a sudden? It was certainly a mystery. But Gonzales looked okay to him. Maybe he was just tired from spending almost the entire day balancing in the crow's nest. Pedro shook his head.  
  
And so the night continued on, some sailors left for their night watch, but Pedro and Gonzales were off that night, and stayed in the galley. Gonzales still remained silent, and Pedro gave a concerned sort of look over at him again.  
  
"Really mate, what's wrong?" he asked again.  
  
"I told ye, nothin's wrong!" said Gonzales.  
  
"Damnit, Gon, stop being stubborn an' just tell me!" insisted Pedro. Gonzales tried to shrug him off.  
  
"Ye've been actin' strange all night!! Ye feelin' bad or somethin'?"  
  
Gonzales was about to say something in rebuttal to this, but instead he suppressed a shiver. Pedro's gaze remained on Gonzales.  
  
"I said, are ye okay, mate?" he asked.  
  
"Just a bit cold, it's nothin' Pedro..." Gonzales said, still trying to shrug the subject off.  
  
Pedro noticed that Gonzales was looking paler than usual, and goosebumps lined his frail arms. He was still damp from the storm. Gonzales shivered once more, this time more violently.  
  
"C'mon mate, somethin's wrong with ye..." said Pedro. He didn't mention that it was probably from that storm, but instead helped Gonzales up and led him off.  
  
"Best get ye to bed, ye don't look so good..." muttered Pedro. Gonzales didn't say anything, but he followed Pedro out.  
  
The sleeping quarters on the Skywale were a series of quite large rooms with many hammocks in sets of twos: one hammock on the bottom, and one on top. Pedro and Gonzales had their own set, with Pedro on bottom and Gonzales on top. There were small cubicles where personal items could be kept, though most pirates on the Skywhale didn't own much of these, and all booty acquired was usually kept safely in the ship's treasury.  
  
A small ladder went up the short distance to Gonzales's hammock, and Pedro helped him up.  
  
"There mate," he said, situated the blankets around Pedro, "Ye just rest up now, and I'll be back in a little while to check on ye..."  
  
Gonzales opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again, thinking better of it. Pedro had noticed though.  
  
"What is it mate?" he asked.  
  
"Could ye... could ye stay with me fer a little while?" Gonzales asked. His face turned red as his request, and he tried to cover it up by burying his face in the blanket.  
  
Pedro's expression softened, his eyes full of concern.  
  
"Aye mate, if ye want," said Pedro.  
  
"Thanks, Pedro," said Gonzales. He blushed more, and whether Pedro noticed this or not was unknown.  
  
And so Pedro sat, perched on the knob that connected the hammock to the post which supported it. Neither said a word, but Gonzales soon became aware of how tired he was, and drifted off into dreamless sleep. Pedro smiled, and very carefully, climbed down, and left Gonzales to sleep.  
  
It was a couple hours later when Pedro and the rest of the crew retired for the night. Everyone else went immediately to bed, but Pedro stood watching Gonzales for a little while. He was sleeping very peacefully, turned over on his side, his chest rising and falling slightly as he breathed.  
  
Pedro glanced around. The rest of the crew had already fallen asleep. Slowly, quietly, Pedro crept up the ladder and once again positioned himself by Gonzales's hammock. He watched him sleep for a little while longer, observing his face. It looked so serene. As Gonzales breathed, a small piece of hair drifted across his face. The hair moved slowly up in down with the slight breeze. Pedro smiled slightly. He very carefully brushed the hair back. Then he let his hand rest on Gonzales's head.  
  
He stayed like that for a while. Maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour or two, or maybe half the night. Pedro began to stroke Gonzales's hair, feeling the smooth, silky strands beneath his fingertips. Pedro rather liked just sitting here. He gazed down at Gonzales for quite sometime, and began to slowly nod off. It was only when he almost fell off that he jerked himself into awareness. Pedro blushed a little, realizing how long he had been staring at Gonzales, and decided it was best if he went to bed. Reluctantly removing his hand from Gonzales's head, Pedro slowly moved from his position.  
  
"Why'd ye stop?" came a muffled, sleepy voice. Pedro jumped. He hadn't realized Gonzales had been awake this whole time. Or at least, half awake.  
  
"Sorry," said Pedro, "Did I wake ye up?"  
  
"Naw," said Gonzales, "Think I just woke up on my own."  
  
"Oh," Pedro scratched the back of his neck nervously. This was certainly an embarrassing situation.  
  
"Feels nice," murmured Gonzales sleepily, and Pedro blushed even more.  
  
"Well... er... g'night, Gon," he said, "You'd best get some sleep."  
  
"'Kay," said Gonzales, and then smiled at Pedro.  
  
"G'night."  
  
Pedro rolled into his own hammock, and fell asleep soon afterwards.  
  
Gonzales awoke later the next morning, later than the rest of the crew. He perhaps was brought awake by the stabbing pain in his head. Gonzales muttered something to himself, and brought a hand up to his forehead. He was sweating. He throat felt scratchy too. Gonzales groaned slightly. Maybe staying up in that crow's nest hadn't been such the greatest idea after all.  
  
Gonzales rolled over, trying to find a position more comfortable for his aching head, but to no avail. He face was hot, and he tossed the blanket off. Gonzales had only been sick a couple of other times in his life. He had gotten air sick the first time he had ever gone on a boat, and then there was a couple of colds here and there. But he didn't remember feeling this bad in a long time. Not since he had gotten the chicken pox back when he still lived in Valua and had itched all over.  
  
Sighing to himself, Gonzales rolled over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. Often when he couldn't get to sleep at night, he would trace the patterns on the wall with his eyes. But now concentrating on it just hurt his head too much, so he didn't.  
  
Gonzales lay there for a while. He tried to go back to sleep, but found he couldn't. So he just tried not to think about his throbbing head too much. This was very hard to do, so Gonzales began to ponder about whether loopers ever got headaches or not. Or if they even got sick. He had begun to cheer himself up a bit thinking about what an air sick looper would look like when Pedro entered the room.  
  
"Ye doin' okay in here, Gon?" he called, "Thought it'd be best te let ye sleep." Gonzales winced at the sound.  
  
"Could ye speak a bit softer mate, me head hurts somethin' awful," croaked Gonzales. Pedro was immediately at Gonzales's side, face full of concern.  
  
"Ye don't feel good at all mate, do ye?" he asked. Gonzales shook his head.  
  
"So yer head hurts? An' it looks like ye got a fever..." said Pedro. Gonzales nodded.  
  
"Okay," said Pedro, "Ye just rest up here, mate, I'll bring ye some medicine an' some o' that lurvly soup that th' cook makes." Gonzales nodded again.  
  
Within a few minutes, Pedro was back again. He was carefully carrying a tray of soup.  
  
"Ye'll have te come down here te eat it, mate, sorry," said Pedro. Gonzales nodded, and Pedro helped him down to the small table where the hot soup was waiting. They both sat down.  
  
The soup was awfully good, and Gonzales began to think less of his aching head. Pedro simply watched him eat.  
  
"Ye done mate?" he asked when Gonzales had polished off the soup, "This sickness o' yours certainly didn't affect yer appetite, huh?" Gonzales nodded.  
  
"Aye, Pedro, that's some good soup." Pedro chuckled.  
  
"Well, how abouts ye take some o' this medicine, eh? Will clear ye right up!" said Pedro. He uncapped the bottle, and Gonzales obediently took a spoonful of it. It tasted awful.  
  
"There now," said Pedro, "Ye just go back to sleep now. Rest up." He helped Gonzales back to bed. Gonzales did have to admit, he was feeling a bit better now, and the warm blankets seemed quite inviting. All of a sudden he was very sleepy.  
  
"'night, mate," he said, and was asleep almost instantly. Pedro grinned to himself. He had sneaked some sleeping drought into Gonzales's soup.  
  
Gonzales slept the rest of the day and long into the night. He only awoke once, and sat bolt upright in the darkness, looking around. His head felt considerably better, and he wasn't red, hot, and sweaty anymore.  
  
"Go back te sleep, mate," came a voice from below him. Pedro had been up all night, just listening to Gonzales breath.  
  
"'night," said Gonzales, yawning, and fell back asleep once more. Pedro smiled to himself, and drifted off into sleep as well.  
  
* * * *  
  
It was morning, and Gonzales had woken up at his usual time. He felt much more like himself again, in fact, he felt about one hundred percent better. Most of the crew were still asleep, though the sun had already risen and very soon it would be time to start the day. Gonzales grinned to himself.  
  
"Oi! Pedro!" he said. He heard the other man stir beneath him, telling Gonzales that Pedro had woken up.  
  
"What?" Pedro asked sleepily, "Ye feelin' any better, mate?"  
  
"Aye," said Gonzales, "Completely. Ready to go back to my usual post."  
  
"No, mate," said Pedro, groaning, "I'll take the crow's nest t'day."  
  
"Aww, yer no fun mate," said Gonzales.  
  
"An' yer a blunderin' fool," said Pedro.  
  
"Am not."  
  
"Are too."  
  
Gonzales grinned once more, and with that, swung his head over the edge of the hammock.  
  
"'ello there, Pedro," he said, still grinning. Sleepily, Pedro rubbed his eyes and blinked up at Gonzales."  
  
"Git yer mangy head back up there 'for ye fall o'er the side o' yer hammock!" he said, but Gonzales didn't move.  
  
"Is me face turnin' red again, mate?" he asked, "'Cause that's what happens, ain't it, if ye hang upside fer a long time?" Pedro rolled his eyes.  
  
"Ye look like a red looper," he said. Gonzales beamed, and began to shake his head from side to side, his hair fanning out beneath him.  
  
"Looper, looper, looper!" chanted Gonzales.  
  
"Aye, mate, ye'd fit right in with the loopers 'cause sometimes ye makes me wonder if ye actually got a brain inside that head o' yours!"  
  
"Looper, looper, looper! Looper's a funny word, ain't it, Pedro?" said Gonzales.  
  
Pedro only rolled his eyes again.  
  
"Well?" asked Gonzales, leaning in closer to him, eyes wide. Pedro opened his mouth to answer, and to perhaps tell Gonzales how stupid he looked right now, but was cut off.  
  
"Ye up yet mates?" came a loud voice that belonged to the first mate into the room. This apparently startled Gonzales, because he involuntarily gave a small yelp of surprise, and with that promptly tumbled out of his hammock and landed straight on top of Pedro.  
  
"Uff!" the other man let out. Gonzales looked dazedly down at Pedro.  
  
"Hehe, sorry there, mate..." he said, giving an uneasy smile. Pedro seemed to winded to talk for a moment, and then stared up at Gonzales.  
  
"What'd I tell ye?" he asked, "Now gerroff o' me!" Gonzales gave an apologetic look, and rolled off (rather awkwardly) to lie beside Pedro.  
  
"'s comfy down 'ere, ye know that Pedro?" said Gonzales. Pedro tried to roll his eyes but only managed to come up with a blush at the close proximity of him and Gonzales.  
  
By this time the rest of the crew in the room begun to wake up. Dylan, an older pirate who slept right across from Pedro, chuckled to himself.  
  
"Ye two look right funny sittin' there like that," he said, "But ye'd better git up afor Cap'n gits mad."  
  
"Ye 'ear that, Gon? Time te git up!" And with that, Pedro tried to roll off his hammock. However, there was a slight problem. It seemed that Gonzales had managed to get himself totally entwined with Pedro somehow, and the more he tried to move, the more entangled their limbs seemed to become. It wasn't until Pedro had completely rolled over Gonzales (with much giggling on Gonzales's part) and much more chuckling by Dylan that Pedro finally managed to get himself out of the hammock. Gonzales leaped up beside him, grinning. Pedro only gave him a dirty look.  
  
"Let's get up on th' deck afor I decide te kill ye or somethin'..." muttered Pedro, "And remember, THIS time I git the Crow's Nest!" Gonzales, though his spirits slightly dampened by this order, dutifully followed Pedro out.  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: Hope you like it so far. Please review if you have the time :D Next chapter: we find out how Pedro and Gonzales come about Daccat's Map. 


End file.
